


one day (someday)

by cylobaby27



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Jemma Kirk - Freeform, Oral Sex, fem!Jim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-19 01:30:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11302947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cylobaby27/pseuds/cylobaby27
Summary: Jemma convinces Bones to spend their shore leave in the city instead of at the beach with the rest of the crew. But when she tries to leave Bones behind for a random hook-up, she sparks unintended consequences.Mutually enjoyable consequences.





	one day (someday)

The bar was like any other slimehole in the universe. Aliens from around the planet came to the capitol city to let loose, and this kind of dive called like to like. People here wanted to get drunk, fuck, or fight—sometimes all three. After three years into their deep-space exploration mission, McCoy felt like he’d seen them all.

He appreciated a good bar, but good God, what some of these places pretended was bourbon was just swill.

Their current location was a planet near the Haneros system, a temperate planet with a tropic belt that attracted visitors from solar systems away. Despite a patch of jungle outside the capitol city that would inevitably house some sort of man-eating plants and terrifying animals, the capitol itself was as clean and safe as could be expected this far out. The planet’s government was stable—no coups in the last twenty years—and the reports suggested that none of the natives had cannibalistic tendencies that might cause trouble. That was why they had selected the planet for a bit of shore leave.

The crew of the Enterprise was free for the next rotation, which equaled about a day and a half according to the ship’s night cycles. After a string of difficult missions, McCoy had been left spending more time than not rushing around the med bay patching up crew members. In the end, McCoy hadn’t been able to save everyone. It was never easy to lose a colleague. After the last disaster, they were all in need of a break.

Hell, even Spock was on shore leave, though he’d taken one look at the bar the Captain had suggested, turned up his nose, and gone to explore the city’s horticultural wonders with Sulu and Chekov.

McCoy had been tempted to join Uhura, Scotty, and some of the others on a jaunt to the planet’s renowned beachfront. After all, he’d been just as thinly spread as the rest of the crew, and the idea of thinking about nothing except sand, the ocean, and as many drinks as he could find was more than appealing. He deserved a break.

However.

Jemma Kirk, McCoy’s best friend— _God help him_ —and the captain of the Enterprise, had been more strained than anyone else over the last few months. As always, she had been taking on more responsibility than was healthy, and had held herself accountable for every step that had gone wrong on their missions.

Even though McCoy had assured her, from a medical perspective, that it was Ensign Reynold’s own damn fault that he’d stumbled past the clearly-labeled warning signs and had ended up contaminated by a sacred virus, Jem had blamed herself for not preventing it. Things had only gotten worse when the outbreak had spread through the ship and, through a poorly timed supply delivery, onto a nearby planet. Jemma had worked her ass off trying to set things right, though the medicine and science were far outside her area of expertise. McCoy had been forced to sedate her more than once to get her to leave the lab to their business instead of hovering like an anxious, brooding Surellian smokefly.

When everyone was cured and they’d landed on the planet for their shore leave, Jemma had looked up at McCoy with those damn blue eyes and asked if he wanted to spend his leave with her. He hadn’t been able to say no, not after seeing her work herself to the bone the last few weeks. Despite her enthusiastic suggestion that they slum it like tourists in one of the city’s hostels, McCoy had poked and prodded her into booking them rooms at the nearby ambassador hotel, which had been offered free-of-charge by the local government for their recent solar system-saving adventures.

When they’d unpacked their bags and each called one of the two beds in the suite, McCoy had taken his first real breath in months. He had the next full day to relax, and he planned to do that with his best friend on the local government’s tab.

Now, though, McCoy was regretting every step that had led him to this godforsaken bar on this godforsaken planet he couldn’t even remember the name of.

“Lighten up, Bones,” the current focus of his internal cursing said, nudging him with her shoulder. “You look like you’re about to throw your drink at that guy.”

The alien in question, who was speaking in a grating language at the table next to them far more loudly than warranted even for the loud bar, overheard and turned to look at them in concern. The scowl McCoy shot his way seemed to make him even more alarmed, but had the nice effect of making him turn to his companions with a slightly more subdued tone.  

“This swill isn’t worth what they’re charging,” he grumbled, taking another drink anyway. “We have better stuff back on the ship.”

Technically _Chekov_ had the better stuff, but hey, crews were supposed to be all about sharing and caring. If Chekov hadn’t wanted Bones to dip into his stash, he shouldn’t have brought the good whiskey into deep space. There were certain things Bones couldn’t be expected to resist.

“If you wanted something palatable, I’m sure Uhura and the girls are sipping fruity drinks at the beach right now,” Jemma said. “If you wanted something to get you drunk…” She paused to take a swig of her own drink. “Well, then, you’re getting exactly what you paid for.”

Their table was near the edge of the bar, selected so that they could both put their backs against the wall and survey the room. After a few too many bar fights over the years, both provoked and unprovoked, they had instinctively started preparing for the worst at the start of the night.

“God, I’m glad to be off the ship for the night,” she continued.

“Let’s see if you’re still saying that when this hellhole inevitably turns into a brawl or an orgy,” McCoy said. “Or both.”

“Bones, you’re such a prude,” Jemma said. “But hey, at least here if the brawl turns bad, I won’t be responsible for anyone dying.”

McCoy sighed. “Jem, you know that it wasn’t your fault that the last mission was such a clusterfuck. You—”

“I love you, Bones, but this conversation is not how I wanted to spend my leave.” Her smile was off—too bright, too wide, while her eyes were still distant and sad. After years of knowing her, McCoy knew what that expression meant. Jemma had never been good at dealing with losing members of her crew, and her coping mechanisms left much to be desired. As her doctor and best friend, McCoy had spent far too many nights cleaning up the messes she made in an attempt to deal with the losses.

The other aliens in the bar weren’t the only ones desperate to fight or fuck.

A tiny, very small part of McCoy could admit that he was always a bit relieved when she picked the ‘fight’ option, even if that was the only one that dragged him along.

The thought of Jemma opening up to a stranger, to letting someone see her vulnerable and wanting, made him feel sick. She had bright blue eyes, short blonde hair, and knew how to work her modest boobs, so her lays all underestimated her. They didn’t know her, and never gave her what she really needed.

Still, the larger part of McCoy knew that his best friend was a big girl who could handle herself. If what she wanted was to sleep with strangers and get into brawls that ended with diplomatic apologies and an hour with the dermal regenerator, that was her prerogative.  

“Yeah, well, if you don’t want to talk, why did you drag me along?” McCoy asked.

“I can’t want to spend some time with my best friend without wanting to talk about work? Come on, Bones, give me a break. Loosen up, and we can gossip about Spock and Uhura. You noticed they’re not taking their leave together, right?”

McCoy heaved a sigh, but went along with the subject change. “As if that hobgoblin would know what to do at the beach.” He chuckled, trying to imagine Spock attempting and failing to recline in a hammock.

Jemma winked at him, a light and easy gesture that was belied by her tense smile. “I want to hear whatever joke you just thought of,” she said. “But first, I’m going to grab another drink. You want a top-off?”

McCoy gestured to his glass. “I have more than half left,” he pointed out.

“And that’s the first time in your life you’ve been on _that_ side of the ‘half-full, half-empty’ debate,” Jemma said before giving him a loose salute and strolling up to the bar.

McCoy sighed into his drink. That girl was going to be the death of him. It wasn’t like he was in touch with his feelings. Hell, he knew that good-old-boy Southern repression had been bred into him early when it came to the touchie-feelies. Still, he was a doctor, damn it. He knew the difference between some gruff reluctance to be vulnerable and being so determined to handle things alone that it started messing with your health, and Jemma was clearly the latter.

Jemma teased him for how often he scanned her with his tricorder, but the truth was that she needed all the attention she could get. If she thought she could hide a debilitating injury or emotional imbalance behind a wink and smile, she’d do it in a heartbeat.

God, but what he wouldn’t give to drill it into her dumb brain that she could lean on him when she needed to.

Speaking of, where was she? The bar was crowded, but hell, she’d dragged him away from a beach trip to keep her company, and the lines couldn’t be _that_ long. Usually she just had to bat her eyelashes to get the bartender to skip over anyone else who was waiting to order.

Lifting slightly from his seat to peer around the room, he spotted Jemma standing at the bar, up close and personal inside a man’s space.

The man—probably a native of whatever-planet-this-was, considering his zygomatic ridges and mossy hair—was leaning right back. He had at least a foot on her, and was as broad as most of the Enterprise’s security team.

If Jemma was going to pick a fight in an alien bar, she could have at least picked someone who didn’t look like he could bench-press them both simultaneously. McCoy knew his strengths, and hand-to-hand was never going to be one of them.

“Dammit, Jem,” McCoy seethed quietly, standing up and making his way toward the bar.

Then, Jemma put her hands on the man’s chest, reached up on her toes, and brushed her lips against his.

McCoy stopped in his tracks, feeling his gut drop. Oh. She had said that talking to McCoy hadn’t been how she’d wanted to spend her shore leave, but she had still implied that she wanted to spend it with _him_. Had he pushed her too hard? Made her think that it was better to seek comfort with a stranger than sit for another minute with her best friend?

It wasn’t often that McCoy felt rejected. In the years since his divorce with Jocelyn, he hadn’t opened himself up to many people. Did he care about his crew? Of course. Every death gutted him to the core. He couldn’t not care about the people who trusted him with their lives. Still, it was different to be someone’s doctor than it was to be their friend. He didn’t have many of those. The ones who managed to slip through his defenses had earned his trust over years, and had all proven themselves as good friends.

Normally, if they didn’t want to spend time with him, it was for the better. To be honest, his friendship with Spock was at its strongest the longer they spent without having to talk.

But Jemma…

McCoy gritted his teeth. Fuck feeling hurt. He was _pissed_. He grasped onto the spark of anger in his chest and held on tight.

Pushing his way through the crowd, McCoy grabbed Jemma’s elbow and tugged her backward. She had stopped kissing the alien, but only barely, and his hands were clasped around her waist and ass. If one of them hadn’t already suggested they find a hotel room to retreat to, it wouldn’t have been long coming. Jemma rarely took things slowly.

“Watch it,” the alien snapped at McCoy, his voice hissing through the translator. “This is my girl.”

“I’m not anyone’s girl. That doesn’t mean we can’t have a good time, though, if you stow the possessive talk,” Jemma said to him, and then turned to McCoy. “Something wrong, Bones?”

“I need to talk to you,” McCoy said.

Something in his face must have alarmed her, because Jemma nodded. “Right. Of course.” She glanced back at the alien. “I’ve got to go. Sorry, man.”

“You’re leaving with him?” the alien asked, looking him up and down in a way that made McCoy bristle.

“Not that way,” Jemma assured him, and McCoy saw red.

“Come on, Jem,” he growled, pulling her away.

The bar was too loud, too crowded, so he led her straight out of the front door and onto the street. It was more than halfway into the planet’s night, and despite the activity inside the bar, the street was mostly deserted. The tropical heat hit them in an unrelenting wave, chasing away the lingering chill from the temperature-controlled bar.

Their hotel was only a block away, but Bones stopped immediately outside the bar door and whirled on Jemma.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, frowning. Her blue eyes, which had only just started to gain a hazy glow from the alcohol, were sharp and concerned. “Is it the crew?”

“It’s not the damn crew,” McCoy said. “Everyone’s fine, from what I know. Unless Spock managed to piss of a native by being a condescending jerk already, but I thought we’d have at least another two hours before that.”

“Jesus, you had me worried,” Jemma said, sighing. She leaned back against the brick wall of the bar, shoulders easing out of their fighting tenseness. “I thought something had gone wrong. You looked really upset. What the hell was that about in there?”

“That’s what I wanted to ask you.”

“What are you talking about? I was just flirting. He was a local. He wanted to buy a drink for the captain who helped save the solar system, and you know I love free booze.”

“It looked like he wanted a lot more than that.”

Jemma shrugged, still looking confused. “Well, maybe he did. I had it under control, Bones. I can handle myself, and I’d have loved a chance to handle him.” She waggled her eyebrows at him.

“Oh, that is _it_ ,” McCoy exclaimed loudly. A raucous group leaving the bar brushed past them, so McCoy stepped closer to where Jemma was leaning against the wall. Their legs brushed, and her chest was only a breath away from his. He lowered his voice. “What exactly was I supposed to be doing while you hooked up with the first alien to bat his eyes at you?”

“Find an alien who wanted to bat her eyes at you?” Jemma suggested. “I don’t know! Jesus, I thought you could handle yourself for a few hours. We were at a bar. There was plenty to keep you entertained.”

“You’re the one who asked me to come with you on shore leave,” McCoy pointed out, though he knew it sounded petulant.

“Yeah, because I thought we could have a good time,” Jemma pointed out.

McCoy wanted to shake some sense into her. “Are you serious?” Bones demanded. “Dammit, Jem, you can’t drag me around to entertain you just in case you can’t find a warm body for the night, but then drop me the second you meet someone new.”

“Well, forgive me if I want to take a night off!” she snapped. “A girl’s got needs, Bones. You’ve never had a problem with it before!”

McCoy folded his arms, scowling, and she flinched like he’d attacked her.

“Have you?” For a beat, she looked genuinely hurt, but quickly regained her footing and shook her head. “You know who I am. If you think I’m some sort of slut or… And it’s not like I can sleep with anyone on the ship without breaking every ethical code in the book! In case you haven’t noticed, on the ship, everyone’s my subordinate. So, yeah, maybe I wanted some sex without having to worry about my crew for one damn night.”

“Not _everyone_ is your subordinate,” McCoy pointed out. It had been a point of argument between them for years—technically, McCoy was outside the chain of command when it came to the health of the crew, especially when it came to Jemma’s health. He could have her taken off active-duty without needing so much as a by-your-leave from the ship’s high command.

“Why, Bones, I didn’t know you felt that way,” She batted her eyelashes at him, giving him a saccharine smile. Breaking character, she huffed a laugh and asked, “What, are you offering your sexual services now? A full-service CMO?”

McCoy took a step closer, bringing them flush together. “And if I am?” he asked, calling her bluff.

Finally, _finally_ , she faltered. Her bluster gave way to complete bewilderment and a touch of fear. The fear threw McCoy off; he didn’t know what reaction he was going for, but Jemma was still his best friend. This was one of the reasons why he’d never said anything to her before. Their friendship had only survived as long as it had because they trusted each other, and McCoy admitting to a secret desire could ruin that. Dammit, Jemma deserved to know that she was adored, but not like this.

McCoy started to back up, but Jemma spoke before he could. Pupils wide, she looked up at McCoy. “Are you?”

Her eyes were so blue. She looked…hopeful, which gave McCoy the confidence he needed to press forward slightly more. He could feel her breasts against his chest as she breathed.

“If sleeping with strangers really gives you what you need, why did you invite me out at all?” he challenged. “You sure _this_ isn’t what you wanted?” He hadn’t thought of the possibility until he said the words, but they sounded like the truth coming from his lips.

“I, ah, didn’t think this was on the table,” Jemma said. Though her expression was still hesitant, the way her body grinded lazily up into his was anything but. “You sure you want to do this?”

“Never thought you’d back down from a challenge. You said this is what you needed tonight,” McCoy reminded her.

Jemma swore something dismissive under her breath and then grabbed his neck and pulled him down to her.

She kissed like she was hungry for it. She didn’t ease into it—one moment, they were staring at each other, and then next their tongues were intertwining. McCoy put one hand on her waist and moved the other to the small of her back so he could control how their hips slotted together. She was shorter than him, but must have been on her tiptoes to make their hips flush. She tasted like the god-awful alcohol from the bar, and her lips were full and chapped.

Slowly, he dragged his hand up and down her side. To an outsider, the move might not have seemed overly intimate, but McCoy could feel Jemma gasp when he brushed against the side of her soft breast.

Over the years, they had touched more times than he could remember—from dragging each other out of dangerous situations or McCoy tearing off her flimsy shirts to perform emergency medical care, to their regular hugs and occasional shared beds—but there had never been anything like this. This had intent, heat, and understanding. Neither of them could pretend this was anything less than it was.

When they broke apart, they were both panting.

“This is, um, a lot to do to make sure I don’t sleep with random Laetaians,” Jemma said, panting.

Ah, that was the name of this damn planet.

“If we do this, Jem, this isn’t just for tonight,” McCoy said firmly. “I don’t share. That’s something Jocelyn could never accept, but I can’t do it. If we do this, I can’t go back to watching you with a different stranger every time we go on shore leave.”

“You want something…permanent,” Jemma realized. “With me.”

Maybe McCoy should have felt insecure. After all these years, he’d never thought that Jemma would be interested in monogamy, not with him, but standing in front of her, all he could see in her eyes was wariness and hope. Those weren’t the eyes of someone alarmed by being propositioned by their best friend. Maybe McCoy hadn’t been the only one letting fear of rejection stop them from trying something. “No one else out here, darling,” McCoy said, running his hand back up her side but stopping before he reached her breasts again.

“Since when?” she breathed, still holding back slightly, like she couldn’t believe what was happening.

“Longer than I’d care to admit,” he said. When she didn’t respond, just looking him up and down, he continued, “If this isn’t something you want, tell me. Your…” He cleared his throat, tripping over his words when her eyes met his. “Your friendship means the universe to me, Jem. I ain’t going to throw it away for one night.”

“I don’t want that either,” she admitted quietly. “You’re the most important person in the universe to me.”

“If you want to go back inside to that… Laetaian, you can. I won’t bring this up again,” he promised her. “Or…”

“Or?”

“Or we go back to the hotel and you let me take care of you tonight.”

“But not… _just_ tonight.”

“Not just tonight,” he agreed.

They were hesitating now more than they ever had talking before. One of the reasons they got along so well was that they were both blunt and straightforward, sure of where they stood with each other. Now, that was shifting. If his friendship with Jemma had been his ground during years in space, he now felt like he was at the edge of a precipice.  

“I want this,” he continued. “I want you. Do you?”

She nodded. “Bones, yes,” she said before pulling him back down into another heated kiss.

He let it go on for a while, enjoying the push and pull of their lips and bodies, but pulled back sooner than Jemma wanted, judging by her whine. “I believe I was promised a hotel room,” he growled in her ear. He planned on drawing as many more breathy noises and whines out of her as possible before shore leave ended.

Suddenly, he was grateful that she had dragged him to the city with her without the rest of the crew.

Jemma, who he had seen conquer rooms with a wink and a grin, shuddered at his breath on the side of her neck.  

“Please,” she breathed.

He grinned against her neck before dropping a kiss on her tan skin. “Then let’s go, darling.”

***

During the walk back to the hotel, Jemma tried to get her heartrate back under control. Holy shit, who knew Bones had it in him? Under her cantankerous CMO was someone who pinned people to walls outside of dive bars and kissed them until their knees weakened.

It wasn’t like she’d never imagined kissing him before. Best friend or not, those eyes and that mouth had starred in more than one fantasy of hers. But the reality of it was intense, and hot, and _terrifying_. She knew she was hot. She knew that Bones was a heterosexual male who could see that just as clearly as anyone. But Bones knew her. He’d seen her at her absolute worst in every possible sense. First thing in the morning, flayed open on an operating table, dead in a body bag, vomiting from a vicious hangover, covered in alien goo and blood. What was he _doing_?

God, the number of times he’d had to treat her for strange alien venereal diseases alone should have scared him off years ago. Now he was kissing her like he needed her lips to breathe, and looking at her with those _eyes_. Like she was something desirable and precious and…

“I can hear you thinking,” Bones said, taking her hand and squeezing it. “Quiet down in there, Jem. This will be good.”

“I think it will,” she agreed, giving him a sly grin.

They entered the hotel lobby, waved off a fawning attendant who had apparently been instructed by the Laetaian Council to give them everything they wanted, and then got in the elevator to their room.

As soon as the doors closed, Bones pressed Jemma against them and kissed her again.

“They’ll have cameras in here,” Jemma reminded him.

“Let them watch,” Bones said. A pleasant shiver went down Jemma’s spine at his dark, gravely voice. “Oh, you like that idea?” he asked. “I thought you were worried.”

“We just saved the solar system,” Jemma said. “They won’t start a diplomatic incident over some kissing. I didn’t think you as an exhibitionist, though.”

“You’re right. I’m not,” Bones said. “I like the idea of having you all to myself. But _you_ like the idea of someone watching.”

Jemma didn’t answer. Instead, she arched into his body for more contact.

She nearly fell on her ass when the elevator doors opened behind her. She had been so wrapped up in their kiss that she hadn’t heard the bell ring to announce their arrival at their floor. Luckily, Bones caught her and ushered her toward their room.

The suite was on the top floor, and boasted two bedrooms with a connecting living area and bathroom. Once they had the door locked behind them, Jemma practically dragged them to her room.

The overhead lights came on automatically when they opened the door, so Jemma went to turn them off for mood lighting. Despite all of the time Jemma had spent with dermal regenerators, there were still scars on her body. She preferred the darkness to hide them, and to stoke the intimacy.

“Leave the lights on,” Bones instructed before she could flip the switch. “I want to see you.”

“But—”

“Just listen to me for once in your life,” he said, rolling his eyes. There was affection in his expression, though, and enough heat to make her toes curl.

Jemma nodded. “If you insist,” she said, tugging him toward her again. As they kissed, he pulled up her black shirt up to expose her breasts. He pulled back to look at her, and then helped her take the shirt the rest of the way off, and then shucked her pants. She had gone out braless, so she was left completely naked, with Bones fully clothed above her.

He nudged and herded her so that her legs hit the edge of the bed, and she sprawled happily backward onto it. She crawled back so her full body was on the mattress, and pulled him down to straddle her.

“You look so fucking good,” Bones growled, kissing down her neck. Jemma pressed her head onto the bed and took a deep breath. She felt heated and exposed in the warm hotel light. The difference in her nakedness and his clothing felt more obvious the lower he went.

He took one of her nipples into his mouth without hesitation, moving his hand to massage her other breast. She gasped and pressed upward. At first, he kissed her nipple like it was her mouth, gently shaping his lips around one and then the other.

When she was gasping beneath him, he dragged his teeth across her breast and then gently pulled her nipple upward between them.

“So responsive,” he said against her, still massaging her other breast with a hand. “You think you could come from this alone?”

Before tonight, Jemma would have laughed at anyone who had suggested that, but this was Bones. With his warm, calloused hands and lips on her breasts, who knew? Her answer was unintelligible.

He lingered on the outside of her breast, on her ribcage, where a jagged scar angled inward. He kissed it gently, not saying a word, and then returned with vigor to her nipples.

“Touch yourself while I do this,” he instructed.

Obediently, she reached down with her right hand and covered her mound with it. She gasped at the contact.

“Are you wet yet? Wet for me?”

She nodded. “Mhm.” The stroke of her fingers was enough to send an extra thrill through her. She sped up her motions slightly, unable to resist. The friction was electrifying. She could get off like his, Bones at her breasts and her own hands between her legs.

“Now stop,” he instructed.

Taking an unsteady breath, Jemma looked down at him. Bones was hovering over one of her nipples, looking up at her. “Now? I just started,” she said.

He grinned, dark and wicked. “Now. Let me taste your fingers.”

Nearly shuddering with the effort of taking her fingers from where she wanted them most, she held her hand near Bones’s mouth. He took her fingers between his lips without hesitation, laving them as thoroughly as he had just licked her nipples.

Once he’d gotten enough, he kissed each nipple once more lightly and then moved down her body. He licked and brushed her stomach, moving inexorably downward.

Breath coming faster, Jemma threw her head back and tried to stay still.

“Look at me,” he instructed, and she opened her eyes. The sight of him between her legs, eyes dark, sent a thrill of arousal through her. “Keep watching,” he said, and then leaned down to press a dry kiss to her center. “Fuck, Jem, you’re dripping.”

“Don’t tease me,” Jemma asked, which she knew immediately was a bad idea. Bones never resisted a challenge.

“You’ve been teasing me for years,” he said. He pressed another dry kiss, and then another. The lack of pressure was worse than none at all.

Finally, he took mercy on her, and opened his mouth to sample her more thoroughly. At the first touch of his tongue to her clit, Jemma nearly jolted out of her body.”

“Your juices are so sweet here,” Bones said. “I’ve always wondered. I want to lick you from top to bottom. Look at me. Watch my tongue.”

“I’ve always loved your mouth,” Jemma admitted.

He looked amazing between her legs. His eyes were dark and focused on her face, tracking her reactions. His hands and mouth moved in tandem, playing her with the same skill he used to become the best doctor in Starfleet. It was thrilling and overwhelming to have all of that attention on her.

He used one large hand to push back one of her legs, his warm palm high on her thigh, while the other moved back up to pinch her nipples. He worked his mouth over her entire center, tongue flicking and sucking at her clit before moving down to trace her outer lips.  

“Are you ready for more?” Bones asked. Rhetorically, it turned out, because he slid two fingers inside of her without needing the desperate confirmation she wanted to give.

Jemma moaned at the added sensation. Her eyes falling closed, she writhed against the comforter and tried to press down onto his fingers.

“Keep your eyes on me, Jemma. I don’t want you forgetting who you’re here with.”

“I couldn’t,” Jemma admitted, but she wrenched her eyes back open all the same.

With their eyes locked, Bones increased his pace by steady, thrilling increments. She lost track of time. All that mattered was Bones, and the growing, pulsing need rising inside her.

“You want to come on my mouth?” Bones asked.

“Oh, yes,” she said. It was like Christmas had arrived early.

“Then come,” he said, moving his hand from her nipple to her clit and stroking in time with the thrusts of his tongue inside her.

“Bones, Bones, Bones,” she said, the plea turning into a mindless moan. It didn’t take long. One, two, three, and then the swirling wave of pleasure inside of her crested. Starting at her center where Bones was touching her, the bone-rattling lightness spread throughout her body.

Feeling entirely weightless, Jemma fell back onto the bed. Bones gave one more kiss to her oversensitive center, and then came up beside her to drape and arm over her stomach and pulling her in tight to him.

She had shared a bed with Bones before in this same spooning configuration, but it had always been for emotional comfort or to share body heat. This was the first time she was sweaty and naked in his arms, but she could tell it was something she could get used to. Could her CMO move into the captain’s quarters officially? She needed a lot more of this.

“You all right, darling?” Bones asked.

Jemma sighed heavily, trying to convey her bone-deep satisfaction without having to try to form words yet. She snuggled back against him, wishing he had let her strip him as well.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Bones said, more than a bit smug. He had earned it. “The alien from the bar couldn’t have given you that.”

She huffed, but agreed. There was something to be said for giving her body to someone who knew her inside and out. “Why haven’t we been doing that for years?” Jemma asked when she finally caught her breath. “I can’t believe we’ve never done that before. Think of all the times we could have…”

“We’ll make up for it,” Bones told her. “We have as long as we want.”

The reminder that Bones wanted her for more than just this night, despite her scars, despite her drama, made something warm and happy settle inside her. Jemma rolled so that she was perched half on top of him. “I’m done waiting,” she said. “I think it’s time for me to see how many curse words I can wring out of you.”

“God, woman, I don’t think you’ll need to try hard,” he confessed. She didn’t think he was lying. From her position on top of him, she could feel the heavy, straining weight of his erection still trapped under his clothes.

By the time they both fell into a heavy, sated sleep, Jemma had found the answer to her question, and had come twice more. Bones had considered that a win on his end, but Jemma felt like the real victor.

***

When shore leave ended and the crew returned to the ship, McCoy couldn’t fight the nagging fear that the last day he’d spent in bed with Jemma would be the only one he’d get.

While Jemma greeted the sunburned, returning crewmen by the transporter, Jemma barely looked at Bones, who was there to deal with the ‘sunburned’ part of their return. (Damn crewmen had ignored his warnings to use sunscreen if they were from a more sensitive skinned race. From what he was seeing, none of them had listened. If he were smarter, he’d let them suffer. Instead, he had Nurse Chapel pass out skin ointment at his direction.)

Once everyone was on board, Bones sent Christine back to the med bay to return the supplies. Jemma nodded to the tech on-duty at the transporter, and then she and Bones left.

“Those damn idiots,” Bones grumbled. “If anyone is sitting weird when we fly out, its their own faults.”

“They looked happy about it, though,” Jemma said. “I think the beach was worth it.” She glanced at him sideways. “I preferred the city, myself.”

“Did you?” Bones said neutrally.

“Come on,” Jemma said, grabbing Bones’s hand and pulling him toward her quarters. “We’re not taking off for another few hours, and I want to break in my bed.”

Grinning, Bones followed.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I normally love McKirk with their canonical genders, but I just really needed Bones eating someone out in my life, you know?


End file.
